The Tempest
by Rhaegal Nymeria Stark
Summary: Narcissa sees a parallel in her love for Hermione and knows that Bellatrix is unworthy of the muggle-born. But Hermione may not appreciate the sentiment. Sequel to "All that is not deserved." "Will you consider sleeping with all three of us?" "I'll consider it." Hermione submitted at last. Bellatrix's wicked grin widened. Very OOC on Bellatrix's part second chapter
1. Caliban

Disclaimer: Own nothing, neither Harry Potter or The Tempest

Summary: Surely you have read Shakespeare, right? Surely, you have read the Tempest? Surely, you have read about Ariel and his greedy other half, Caliban? Narcissa sees a parallel in her love for Hermione and knows that Bellatrix is unworthy of the muggle-born. But Hermione may not appreciate the sentiment. Sequel to "All that is not deserved."

**The Tempest: Caliban**

What was love? Did anyone really know? Some people were so sure they knew what love was. Some people went their whole lives believing they knew exactly what it was and how it was supposed to feel. But if anyone spoke the truth, they'd tell you that it was a fire no one should ever kindle within their hearts and souls; they'd tell you it was an emotion so dangerous that it made you forget all your other senses, including your self-preservation.

Not all people experienced love, and some would say that that was a lucky thing on their part. Narcissa Malfoy, soon to be known as Narcissa Black, come her and Lucius Malfoy's divorce did not have that luck. Sometimes the affliction of love affected an individual and they would never have their feelings returned. Even her husband had found love. Granted, it was in the oddest of places; from the oldest Weasley son of all people, but he had found it in the red haired Dragon tamer nonetheless. It had stunned Narcissa when she had seen how Charlie Weasley looked at Lucius. There was love in those blue eyes. Love and complete devotion and adoration. The blonde only wished her dear one would cast that same stare her way, as she did for the younger woman again and again.

Narcissa understood that her love was unrequited. It was a sad truth that she had learned to accept long ago. Even her soon to be former husband knew of true love's gentle warmth, but Narcissa herself only knew the cold, harsh sting of rejection. She sometimes watched her desired one. An intellectual, brilliant muggle-born witch many years younger than her. One particular set of books her muggle-born clearly enjoyed reading many times, Narcissa noticed, were books by a renown deceased muggle author called William Shakespeare. One of the books Narcissa had seen her young beloved read was called "The Tempest."

During one of her luncheons with the brunette muggle-born, Narcissa had taken the chance to ask about the book. The bookworm had been more than happy as always to share her knowledge about a subject. She told the pureblood about a marooned ship and a group of lost travelers; some planning on turning on their brethren. On the island however, these people were not alone. There was a sorcerer that caused the ship to crash. The sorcerer had a daughter. This daughter was fair, gentle, naïve and curious. On the island with the sorcerer and his daughter, were two spirits. One was an ethereal androgynous being called Ariel, the other was a greedy, decadent, violent creature called Caliban. Very little was known about either spirits, but Narcissa's usually quiet imagination ran off with her and she created pictures in her mind of the spirits' motivations. In her mind, the supposed "love interest" of this sorcerer's daughter Miranda; this "Ferdinand" didn't even exist. The spirits Ariel and the Caliban that were given birth to in the pureblood's mind were dancing in an imaginary tapestry, pining after the young woman who their master, the sorcerer protected night and day relentlessly. They pined after what they couldn't have. Caliban for certain did. He would have taken Miranda if he could have-if not for her father. And his gentile, soft and docile brother/sister Ariel cared for Miranda but never displayed any greed or desire to possess her, just love unspoken.

In her bizarre new empathy for these two so alike yet so different fictional beings, Narcissa found an even stranger kinship. Well, at least to one of these characters anyway. Despite her imagination taking form of unrequited love for Miranda from both Ariel and Caliban, her repulsion for the vicious, callous and uncivilized Caliban was also a strong presence. No, her empathy ran far greater and further for the elegant and kind Ariel.

And after coming to this wildly elaborate visualization of fictional events and connections, the blonde had beheld her curious, naïve and beautiful Miranda, at the age of nineteen, sporting bushy brown hair, muggle clothes and several large, thick books that not even a seasoned, professional librarian could hope to get through in a month let alone a couple of days like Narcissa knew her love could and fully intended to do.

Narcissa had pondered for a long while after Hermione had introduced her to The Tempest what drew her so strongly to Ariel. At first she had suspected because she pictured the spirit as being incredibly beautiful and some very vain part of her had instantly thought that that divine beauty was something she was connected to. In all fairness, she believed her mother Druella, who she had witnessed as a child constantly looking at herself in the mirror every three minutes to make sure that every hair was in place was to blame for that quite immodest opinion of her appearance, and for the odd comparison. Of course, it hardly mattered now, did it? Druella Black had been dead for almost ten years to the day, sleeping eternally in the foreboding marble family crypt next to Cygnus Black III. Lot of good preening her feathers and making herself out as the most beautiful creature in the world did her now, right?

Still, Narcissa couldn't help it. And really, the emotional comparison that she had created herself seemed impossible to ignore. No matter how much she wanted to convey her feelings, to share what her longing was like to Hermione, she could not move her mouth or breathe out the sentence- she feared the end result too much. She contemplated if that was how her nonexistent version of Ariel felt this way towards Miranda. Well, her mind had run away with those thoughts about Ariel, so to her, the spirit did.

Now, as she stood next to the muggle-born young woman once again, she wanted to finally tell the brunette how she felt. She wanted to tell the younger woman that _she _wanted to be the one that Hermione woke up next to in her bed every morning, not Bellatrix, not her greedy, callous, vicious sister. Not Caliban.

In Narcissa's mind, while she found a strong unbearable kinship with Ariel, whenever she thought of Caliban…her thoughts traveled to her oldest savage, mad and brutal sister.

If she was Ariel, then Bellatrix had to be Caliban. Narcissa was almost sure of the juxtaposition. Perhaps she was being hard on her sister for thinking that. In fact she knew she was. Her poor sister had protected her and their other sister Andromeda from their abusive parents for years, and both she and Andromeda had left home, abandoning the Black Manor _and _Bellatrix first chance they got when she had married Lucius and when Andromeda had run off with Ted Tonks after graduation from Hogwarts.

Bellatrix was brutal, but only because she had never once known a moment of tenderness before Hermione had come into the pureblood's life, or a moment of when someone protected her before Hermione or before Bellatrix and Narcissa's niece, the Auror came along.

There had been a long time when guilt was all Narcissa had felt concerning her big sister who had remained trapped at the manor with their monstrous parents, until the black haired witch had turned to someone even more dangerous than Cygnus Black. Voldemort had been _Bellatrix's _way out of the manor and Narcissa knew deep down that it was all her and Andromeda's faults for never protecting their big sister, never shielding her from Cygnus and Druella the way she had done for them. But there was nothing she could do about it now, was there?

As the blonde perceived Hermione, curled up in the large soft red velvet upholstered chair with another book on her lap that she realized was also Shakespearean literature, titled, "Cymbeline," she sucked in a breath and knew that she had to be honest. And brave. Bravery. That was a virtue that she had never possessed. She had never been any Gryffindor, but she had never shown any type of bravery in her life, save for the time she had lied to Voldemort's _face _that Harry Potter was dead, and that had only been for her son's sake.

She sighed, approaching the younger witch. As she got close, her shadow encompassing where Hermione sat, the muggle-born perked up curiously, turning her attention away from the book and fixed her eyes on the pureblood in front of her, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

Hermione, startled at first, smiled and put a small white, paper bookmark in the pages, placing the book down next to her as she greeted the older woman. "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy." She said, feeling a little awkward after speaking and it must have been apparent on her face because the blonde witch smiled in encouragement. Narcissa supposed it was only natural that there was some awkwardness regarding her last name. After all, she and Lucius were going through a divorce. Not knowing which last name to call her by was relatively understandable.

Narcissa spoke, voice gentle as she tried to talk in a confident tone, though she suspected that she was failing, "Ms. Granger….Hermione…my dear…I, I wanted to tell you something." Hermione gave the blonde her complete attention.

"Yes?" the muggle-born asked gently, "What is it?"

Narcissa breathed, getting ready as the brunette's eyes stayed on her. "Hermione," She began, feeling every inch of her person start to sweat and tremble, wishing that there was some way for Hermione to glean her thoughts without having to hear them or without magic, "I…I just need to tell you….I love you." There. She said it. The secret was out. She could now only watch and see the results. It appeared as if it was taking some time for Hermione's brain to fully comprehend what she had been told.

The brunette's brown eyes widened and she sighed, clearly having a hard time absorbing this. "Narcissa," She said, voice gentle but firm and Narcissa instantly dreaded what her beloved would say next, "I'm...I'm flattered. Really, I am. But as I'm sure you know, I'm in a relationship with your sister. Bellatrix and I have been in a relationship now for almost three years. Surely you haven't forgotten that?"

Narcissa's stomach dropped. She tightened up as she inhaled, letting out her subdued anger at least a little, "I know. I understand, but I…," Narcissa felt her throat become dryer still and tried to swallow again but it was as if she had nothing to swallow anymore. Her mouth and throat lacked all moisture, leaving it as barren as a desert. She bore the sheen of perspiration plenty though. "I don't believe that my sister is right for you, Hermione."

Narcissa knew she shouldn't have said that, but she did. She knew the anger that would be rolling off the muggle-born in malevolent currents was going to be harsh and painful to see, but she prepared herself for it as well as she could. It didn't help. Hermione's glare became intense. Her eyes were now a dark burning color; smoldering pieces of coal threatening to leave the muggle-born's sockets and scald the blonde's flesh, peeling it away with white hot, hateful furious heat.

"I'm sorry," The brunette breathed out, voice sounding low and cold, "But I'm not sure if I actually heard you right. What did you just say?"

Narcissa swore she could feel a chill run up and down her spine. Somehow though, she was able to gather her courage or something like that, again. "I said I don't believe that my sister is right for you," She repeated, not certain how she got the sentence out without wavering, "She is violent, erratic and sometimes she scares even me. I…you deserve to only exist in the light. You don't deserve to be the lover of darkness. My sister is broken. Too broken to fix. I…..I certainly am not entirely whole. Who could be after being raised by parents like Cygnus Black III and Druella Rosier?" Narcissa gave a helpless, acute shudder at the thought of those two abusive tyrants and what they had done to her and her older sisters and kept on, "I love you. I know you care about my sister, and I care deeply for her, but I won't pretend that I'm not troubled by a beautiful, intelligent and kind woman like you being wasted on a violent madwoman like my sister."

Narcissa wasn't sure how it happened. She saw the brunette jump up out of the seat, leaving the book on the cushions. She saw the hand raising and knew she should have expected it, but she didn't even open her mouth to plea when the hand slapped her across the face hard. Narcissa almost stepped back, reeling at the sharp scorching sensation in her cheek. She was sure that she had never been hit that hard. Ever. Druella Rosier struck her once when she was seven, trying to sneak off with some cake batter that she had gathered in a small glass bowl, but Bellatrix had protected her. As Bellatrix always had and always did from then on. Any smacks or curses she might have experienced were teases and jests compared to the horrors Cygnus and Druella subjected Bellatrix to.

So this slap came as quite the shock for her.

"How dare you." Hermione hissed, nearly appearing as if she were towering over the still befuddled blonde witch, low voice the snarling of a thousand rabid beasts torn loose from their already rusted cracked cages, "you who never tried to help Bella? You who never raised a hand to protect her when she continually and forever protected you?! You who DARE say that Bellatrix is only dark and therefore you're light? Are you insane? You did nothing when Bella was being abused. She's not dark, Narcissa, _you _are. Anyone who stands by and does nothing while someone suffers is dark."

The blonde looked back at Hermione, the words thrown at her hurting her more than the smack ever could. "Hermione?" She whispered, "That….that isn't true. I _wanted _to help."

"And yet you didn't." Hermione quipped back, head held high, almost appearing like an aristocrat in her proud anger. The sight chilled Narcissa.

"I _wanted _to," Narcissa emphasized, "And Bellatrix certainly didn't help _anyone _during the war, nor did she _want _to! But I did. I saved Potter! Hermione," The blonde stepped closer, desperate for her beloved muggle-born witch to understand, "You remember that play you showed me? By Shakespeare? 'The Tempest?'"

Narcissa could see how perplexed Hermione was at the reference. "Where are you going with this, Narcissa?" The brunette asked, cocking an eyebrow.

The youngest Black sister finally managed to throw out in the open, "Bellatrix…..my sister, she's like Caliban. She's sympathetic enough because of the abuse she's experienced, but nothing good can come of being with her. She's savage, she's greedy, she's callous. You deserve so much better than that, my love."

Hermione's eyes still enflamed with rage looked like they were about to frost over with ice. Narcissa felt her entire body tighten up.

"Hermione, I-" She began, afraid she would be struck again, before Hermione loudly interrupted her, voice outraged.

"Narcissa Black," The muggle-born hissed dangerously, "I am warning you. That's the last of this we will speak of the matter. I do not, and can never love you. I understand that you have feelings and normally I would be incredibly flattered, but understand that I cannot love you. I know that you, Bellatrix and Andromeda were raised horribly and were abused by Cygnus and Druella, and so I should feel sympathy for you, which I do, however, you have crossed a line today by calling Bellatrix, the love of my life, the woman that I would do literally _anything _for to make happy and safe, the other half of my soul, savage and greedy. You compare her to...I can't believe you. You say Bella is Caliban because she's callous and "savage." Have you looked in the mirror lately? Caliban was greedy, and so are you. Bellatrix is not Caliban, Narcissa, you are. You're self-centered, selfish, self-indulgent and greedy. Bellatrix might be violent and you might not be, but Bellatrix never hungered after what wasn't hers, you are, and so did Caliban. You skulk in the shadows, lusting after me when you have no place to. You are arrogant and put yourself on a pedestal like Caliban did. Go fuck yourself. Go to Lucius, he's the only one pitiful enough to have someone as greedy as you, even with Charlie as a lover. You two deserve each other."

With that, Hermione turned, flicking her bushy hair over her right shoulder, swooping down and picking up her books from the scarlet chair and stormed out of the room, leaving Narcissa alone. The pureblood lifted her hand to her usually pallid cheek, now bright red from the impact of Hermione's hand. _She _was self-centered? _She _was selfish? She didn't have any idea how to counter this. Her heart fell. She could feel the blood slowly draining from her, sapping her energy. She was Caliban? In Hermione's eyes, she was Caliban?

She loved Hermione. Her feelings were regarded as selfish and treated like they were a pile of rotting, stinking, decomposed trash, left to the starving carnivorous maggots to feast on and fill their microscopic, gluttonous putrid bellies with. What could she possibly do?

Narcissa smiled bitterly. She was hiding in the shadows, snubbed by her Hermione, while Bellatrix got all the attention. Perhaps Hermione was right. Perhaps she really _was _the Caliban in the scenario. The selfish creature hiding in darkness, wishing for attention, and never getting it, and according to her beautiful "Lady," she was just as selfish. Well, Hermione _was _the brightest witch of her age, wasn't she? Perhaps she was right on the mark about this.

**I'm sure anyone who has read "Voyeurism is such a strong word," "Reciprocation is key," "Domesticated," and "Feral" found this funny and ironic, but this takes place before all of that. Long story. Sequel to "All that is not deserved." **


	2. Ariel (?)

**M rating for this chapter: Bellamione femslash, mentions of a future foursome. No flames Very mature material here.**

**The Tempest: Chapter 2: Ariel (?)**

Hermione slipped through the mahogany door of the Black Manor, closing it as quietly as possible. She didn't want to risk waking her lover if the dark witch was currently sleeping. Gliding across the floor swiftly, she put her books down on the dining room table turning towards the staircase leading up to the master bedroom. She hurriedly shucked her shawl, scarf and jacket, hanging them up on the metal hooks across from the door of their bedroom, before turning back to the door and grabbing the handle, bending it down and opening it. The door went ajar and Hermione was met with the sight of a dark room filled with a large king sized ebony sheet and blanket cloaked bed. She made out the slim, curvaceous form of her beloved lover, draped in a deep red, nearly black nightgown. Bellatrix's left hand was by her head against the pillow, the pureblood's pale, gorgeous, regal face appearing at peace, a rarity for this particular woman. Her black hair streaked with grey was strewn across the pillows. The rest of her body was lying serenely, long, creamy legs exposed through the crease of the nightgown where they lay.

Hermione shivered at the beautiful sight, but kept her more erotic thoughts in check. Bellatrix was sleeping right now. Considering her nightmares and mood swings, an uneventful sleep was a rare and treasured thing for Bellatrix. She'd never disrupt that. She smiled at her resting dark love and turned back, walking out the door and slowly, gently shutting the door so as not to wake the older witch.

The muggle-born walked down the hall back towards the staircase. She would just read one of her newly purchased books. She hadn't read _"Fahrenheit 451"_ in a while, so that would do. She would not say a single word to Bellatrix about her encounter with Narcissa this evening. Not a word. Bellatrix didn't need to know that her own little sister thought of her that way. Hermione felt rage begin to claw at her again as her mind replayed what the blonde witch had said about Bellatrix. Caliban? Really? Bellatrix was Caliban? Hermione's expression morphed into one of deep disgust.

That was truly the pot calling the kettle black. Narcissa may not have killed or tortured anyone during the war. She may have used no wand, no knife, no poison, she hadn't even used her hands for violence during the war but that didn't erase what the blonde had done. Actually, it only made it worse. Narcissa thought she was absolved of her actions because she hadn't been violent; she even probably told herself that she was a hero for lying to Voldemort that Harry was dead. Hermione wasn't going to lie; she was grateful to Narcissa for doing that. She would never _not _be grateful to Narcissa for saving Harry's life. It was one of the reasons why she had decided to reach out to the blonde and meet with her for lunch every now and then. That, and of course because she was Bellatrix's sister.

But lying to Voldemort _once_ meant nothing when she had stood back and had done nothing for years. Which lead to the real meat of the reason Hermione felt the nagging tendrils of anger towards Narcissa almost choking her. Not only had Narcissa done nothing for anyone except herself and her son during the war, but she had done nothing while her own big sister Bellatrix suffered at the hands of Cygnus and Druella Black. Yes, Narcissa had been a child at the time too-she was four years younger than Bellatrix, according to her, she had been only three when she had first witnessed Cygnus Black III's fist flying into her big seven-year old sister's already bruised face. There more than likely wasn't much that Narcissa could have done…..at the _time_.

However, later had been different. When Bellatrix had joined Voldemort, Narcissa should have done something. When Narcissa graduated from Hogwarts and was arranged to be married to Lucius, there perhaps wasn't much she could have done except help Bellatrix escape from their parents. And she should have bloody done just that. After everything Bellatrix had done for her two little sisters? Nothing. After risking life and limb and sanity for her sisters? Nothing. Narcissa had done nothing at all. Not when Bellatrix had joined Voldemort, not when Bellatrix had been forced to marry Rodolphus Lestrange, not when Bellatrix had been sent to Azkaban, nothing.

It made Hermione almost fantasize about killing Narcissa, till she restrained herself. Today, when Narcissa had said something so atrocious about Bellatrix and "The Tempest" by Shakespeare, Hermione's control very nearly broke and she had been inches from grabbing her wand. Narcissa had dared to say that Bellatrix was like Caliban?

That was hilarious, since Caliban was said to be selfish and gluttonous. Kind of sounded like a particular blonde pureblood Hermione knew that only cared about her fake happiness and appearance in public. Hermione glowered as she picked up the book, plopping down onto one of the Black Manor's sofa chairs. She opened the cover, getting ready to read. It was infuriating. If there was one person Hermione could compare Bellatrix to in "The Tempest," it was not Caliban, but Ariel. Ariel was another spirit, but not like Caliban. Ariel had done everything Prospero had asked. Ariel was attentive and though was a spirit and likely housed a more predatory and darker nature than he let on, was loyal and appeared very, very vulnerable in the story. There were some passages in "The Tempest" from Ariel's voice that almost made Hermione want to cry for the spirit. Hermione paused, then put Ray Bradbury's book down. She'd get to it later. She could never keep from reading his works for long anyway. She walked to one of the further shelves, to the Shakespeare section Bellatrix had bought just for her. It always brought a smile to Hermione's face to think about when the black haired woman had brought the books to her.

She scanned the titles till she found The Tempest and pulled it out by the top of its colored red and green paper spine. She opened it and looked through the pages till her eyes landed on one of Ariel's soliloquies.

Bellatrix was such a devoted and vulnerable woman. She never let anyone that close. But somehow, Hermione had been allowed access to the dark witch's heart, bound in frozen chains, barbed wire and sharp metal teeth. Somehow, Bellatrix had let Hermione past all her defenses and the wall of hard unbreakable stone surrounding the pureblood's heart had cracked open, allowing the muggle-born into her life, to help her.

Her eyes scanned the eloquent words, brought forth from a talented, artful, sophisticated and masterly hand. Ariel's speech was enchanting, beautiful and terrifying all in one:

"_You are three men of sin, whom Destiny, _

_that hath to instrument this lower world _

_and what is in't, the never-surfeited sea hath_

_caused to belch up you; and on this island _

_where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst _

_men being most unfit to live. _

_I have made you mad; and even with such-like _

_valor men hang and drown their proper selves."_

Had it been spoken in a more modern tongue, Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if it had been snarled out by Bellatrix's own proud lips.

The muggle-born smiled, free hand glided across the page, fingertips gently stroking the written name of Ariel as tenderly as if she were caressing Bellatrix's beautiful face. Her wrathful, ferocious, fragile, insane and ethereal love was nearly poetic in her madness and broken mind. Hermione's teeth clenched at the memory of Narcissa's words. How dare she? How. Dare. She?!

Hermione felt harsh burning hot spikes of rage begin to penetrate her mind and make her fingers press down hard against the pages of the book.

"Hermione?" A startled voice cut through Hermione's haze of fury and bloodlust, making the muggle-born jump and almost drop the book as she swiveled around to face her dark lover. Bellatrix stood behind Hermione, standing poised on the staircase, observing the younger woman as she held onto the polished redwood banister of the stairs with her right hand.

"Bella," Hermione exclaimed, calming down, not wanting Bellatrix to be concerned over a heightened mood her young lover might possess at the moment, "You scared me. It's okay. I just was reading and got caught up in something." She slapped the book closed with the hand she was using to hold it upwards, "Shouldn't you be sleeping? I know you say you don't need it that much, but you seemed to be sleeping really well just now."

Bellatrix scoffed, waving her left hand, "You worry too much and you know it, love." She descended down the stairs uncaringly, appearing as a queen in her stride, "I'll get to sleep when you're lying pressed up against me with your legs wrapped around my waist right where you belong."

Three and a half years ago, that remark would have made Hermione's whole face flush with heat, turning a bright shade of red but now the brunette could only chuckle. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised by that reaction. Bellatrix was very nonchalant about her mental state; probably was forced to get used to it since she lived with it almost her whole life thanks to her parents.

Hermione smiled as she spoke, "Well thank you for expressing your desire so enthusiastically, but I'll be there eventually," She put the book back into the shelf, hoping that Bellatrix didn't see the title and it led to strange questions, "Is there anything you need before we head off to bed?"

"Besides me needing you, dearie?" Bellatrix quipped, eyes narrowed akin to those of a predator, reaching out and clutching the brunette's left wrist with her right hand, swinging her forward against her chest and wrapping her arms around the younger woman, her embrace as unyielding as steel swathed in the softest of silks. Hermione gasped on impact as she was pressed up against the pureblood, bound in the older woman's grasp. The pureblood rested her forehead against Hermione's, cerulean eyes burning into her lover's deep brown ones.

Bellatrix's left arm traveled up and her hand cupped Hermione's chin, lifting the younger's head as she leaned down, lips claiming the muggle-born's own. Hermione closed her eyes, opening her mouth immediately and allowing the pureblood's tongue to slip past her lips to slide against and caress her own. Hermione moaned into the older woman's mouth, hands gripping onto the collar of the dark witch's nightgown.

Bellatrix finally pulled away, leaving her lover gasping and she hugged the younger even closer, resting her head on the brunette's shoulder as she asked quietly, "Where were you? I saw your coat and scarf outside our door."

Hermione tried not to tense when she heard that question. There was no _way _she was going to tell Bellatrix about the cruel words that had fallen from Narcissa's lips.

"I went out to get some new books," Hermione answered, making sure she was as truthful as possible without mentioning what Narcissa said, "Just wanted to see what the new bookstore had. I….." Hermione hesitated, flinching at the thought of bringing up Bellatrix's sister, "I ran into one of your sisters today. Narcissa."

Bellatrix lifted her head at that and this time Hermione couldn't suppress the need to tense up. "Cissy?" Bellatrix breathed out, surprised. Hermione's jaw clenched, now afraid. "Is she well?"

"She's fine." Hermione said, hoping her voice didn't sound too harsh and unforgiving; she really didn't want Bellatrix to know what her sister said, "Her divorce with Lucius is coming along well. I don't know about herself. She looked okay."

Bellatrix lifted her head, laying feather light kisses on Hermione's chin and cheek, encouraging whimpers from the younger witch. The black haired woman nuzzled her lover's ear and whispered, "You know, it's strange that I should tell you this, but Cissy….she _and _Andy…they've both become quite taken with you."

Hermione's eyes widened and she almost stepped back, had it not for Bellatrix's arms keeping her in place. It was a good thing the older woman was holding her too, she might have fallen right over, just like in the cartoons if she wasn't. Still, she was thrown for a loop.

Bellatrix knew?!

And Andromeda as well as Narcissa?! Hermione squirmed a moment in Bellatrix's arms.

"Wait a bloody moment," Hermione protested, moving strenuously, "Wait just a minute!" Bellatrix, startled, moved away and opened her arms, allowing the younger woman to step out of them and meet her blue eyes again with astounded burgundy ones.

"Wait a minute," Hermione started, all strength leaving her voice, "You're telling me you know that both Andromeda and Narcissa have a thing for me, and you're not even remotely jealous?!"

Bellatrix's eyes widened, then she snickered, but very little if any malice was evident as far as Hermione could tell, "Well, they _are _my sisters, darling. If it had been anyone else," Bellatrix's eyes darkened and Hermione restrained a shudder, "Nothing could have saved them. I'd happily make them join my dear cousin in death, and I'd be inventive when I'd do it too." As soon as Bellatrix was done speaking, her voice softened, "But I love my sisters, very much. And honestly, Mione, I can't really blame them for their feelings." Bellatrix smirked as Hermione blushed at the praise.

Sex was one thing. Hermione had gotten quite used to it, no matter how exhilarating and delightful it was, but no matter how many times Bellatrix praised her and called her beautiful, brilliant and gave her pet names, she never was able to stave off the blood rushing to her cheeks.

"Look, thanks, Bella," Hermione mumbled out, causing Bellatrix's smirk to widen, and Hermione's voice became a bit more focused and fierce, "But I think we need to concentrate at the matter at hand. What are we going to do about Andromeda and Narcissa?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "What _should _be done, dear?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow in amusement, "I don't like sharing, but with my sisters, it's a closed circle. With them I know at least that you're still mine."

And again Hermione almost stumbled back. She would have too, had Bellatrix not been so close to her and reached out, grabbing the younger woman and holding her up.

Bellatrix seemed concerned when she saw this. "Are you alright, pet?" She remarked, some amusement evident, but so was worry.

"It…it's alright," Hermione said quietly, though she was shaking her head making her nearly nonsensical, "What _are _you saying, Bella? I'm hoping you're not suggesting that I end up in a relationship with all three you, _and _your sisters?"

Bellatrix cocked her head, mirth more than evident in her tone as she spoke, "And what if I am?"

Hermione stared, incredulous, "You hate the thought of me with anyone else like that!"

The older witch cackled, normally to anyone else it would have been a harsh sound, but for Hermione it almost made her forget the seriousness of the conversation, (almost), "Normally, yes. If it were your ex, the Weasley boy, Viktor Krum or anyone else for that matter, you'd _know _that I'd be very much against you being with them, but my sisters and me are closer than usual and as long as it's just the three of us with you. Besides, whether you want to admit it or not, it likely appeals to you as well."

Feeling completely humiliated when blood rushed to her face again, Hermione almost snapped, "Don't be ridiculous! Don't say things like that. I love you. All I want is you. I don't want Andromeda or Narcissa. Just you."

Bellatrix shrugged, smiling. "And you are everything to me, darling, but Andy and Cissy are still my sisters and you mean everything to them too."

Hermione held her tongue. Did Narcissa know how much she meant to Bellatrix? Yes, she more than likely did, but she still said the most abhorrent thing only an hour ago.

"Bella," Hermione started, not sure if she let open this particular can of worms, "How do you even _know _about this? About Narcissa and Andromeda's feelings?"

Bellatrix smirked and Hermione knew immediately that her lover had found out through means that she knew her muggle-born wouldn't approve of, "I listened in on them once. It seems Andy fell for you first, then Cissy's heart became nothing but easy prey for you my darling."

Now Hermione couldn't hold back another blush. Did Bellatrix _have _to put it like that?

"Okay….," Hermione got out, "And do you actually suggest we allow both of them into our bed as a result of their feelings?"

Bellatrix grinned, shrugging, "Well, honestly, it would be quite hot to see you writhe against our bed with Andy or Cissy between your legs, or both-"

"Bella!" Hermione yelled, astounded, stepping back from her lover of three and a half years, staring at the dark witch in shock and what bordered on betrayal. Bellatrix appeared confused.

"What?" The older woman asked, seeming forlorn at the absence of Hermione in her grasp, "I love you. I wouldn't be giving you up, not ever. This is just for pleasurable entertainment purposes, nothing else. I didn't realize you were so against that."

Hermione sighed, feeling like she was going to get a headache at any moment, but she inhaled and exhaled. She knew how to calm herself in situations like this. She had been doing breathing exercises for her PTSD from the battle at Hogwarts for months now, when Bellatrix wasn't holding the muggle-born witch close and rocking her back and forth as traumatic memories ran rampant in the brunette's head.

"Okay, okay," She sighed, smiling at her ebony haired lover, "Maybe I'm overreacting to your idea, Bella, but most people wouldn't suggest sharing their lover with two other people, relations or not." Bellatrix gave a smug smile.

"Can you really say we're most people, love?" She quipped, lifting her eyebrows in amusement. Hermione smirked. "Well, you're right about that." Hermione submitted, chuckling, "You….why would you consider this though, Bellatrix? Do you want Andromeda and Narcissa in our bed? I know they're your little sisters and you'd do anything for them, but do you really want the two of them to have sex with me? What about what _you _want for once?"

Bellatrix shrugged, grinning, "What about what I want? I already have everything I want. I have _you_." The former Death Eater pulled Hermione even closer against her, grinding her clothed lower torso against Hermione's through the brunette's skirt, making the younger gasp. "Make no mistake, Hermione," Bellatrix purred out, left hand lowering till it reached the brunette's thighs, fingers sliding against the muggle-born's clothed slit, pressing hard. Hermione gasped, eyes fluttering closed as Bellatrix continued to growl out, "You're mine. If Andy and Cissy think they can take you from me, they're in for a rude awakening. But," Bellatrix leaned down, scooping Hermione's legs out from underneath her, carrying the muggle-born to a brown cushioned chair, seating the younger in it and kneeling down at the smaller witch's legs, lifting up the brunette's skirt.

"But really," Bellatrix cackled out, "Just imagine, all three of us holding you to the bed, undressing you. You're completely helpless, and all three of us, me, and Andromeda and Narcissa are going to fuck you till you're unconscious. Can you imagine it, dearie?" Bellatrix's grin widened when Hermione's hips involuntarily bucked forwards. "Yes," the dark witch chuckled, "It looks like you can imagine very well." She decided to be extra cruel and dipped two fingers into Hermione's moist folds, protected only by the twenty-two-year-old's underwear, moving her fingers around very slowly. Hermione gripped the arms of the chair, head thrown back, gasping again as her hips bucked.

Bellatrix smirked. "Think about it. It's so convenient. I never tire of you of course, but Cissy's the baby so I'd let her go first. Cissy always liked doing things with her hands. I can just imagine how she'd tease your cunt. With each finger, then make you ride her whole fist." Bellatrix pushed her fingers in deeper, knuckles brushing against the brunette's clitoris. Hermione screamed this time, getting a laugh from her dark love. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" The oldest Black sister giggled, "she'd slide her fingers into you again and again and you'd be helpless to the pleasure she would make you experience." Bellatrix's grin widened and her fingers twisted around again, thumb playing at Hermione's covered vulvae. Hermione started thrusting upwards, no longer in any control. "And when Narcissa wanted to be amused," Bellatrix continued purring, "All she'd have to do is play with your beautiful little hole. We both know how that makes you wild, don't we?" Bellatrix looked up, wanting to see Hermione's state. She was not disappointed. Hermione's body thrust back and forth against the seat, choked mewls spilling from her mouth, eyes shut, body strained. Just as the cliff came near, and Hermione felt herself begging to be thrown off the edge, it stopped. Bellatrix pulled her fingers away from the muggle-born's sexual organs. Hermione let out a whimper of despair until Bellatrix grabbed the waistline of the brunette's underwear and pulled them down.

Bellatrix put her face inches from Hermione's womanhood. "And Andromeda?" The dark witch chuckled, making the muggle-born shiver, "She'll get hungry for you, I'm sure. She'll drink you till you have nothing left to give." Her hands moved to Hermione's inner thighs, one hand on each inner thigh, slowly parting them as she leaned her head in.

Hermione watched in amazement, feeling herself getting wetter by the second. It wasn't like Bellatrix hadn't performed oral sex on her before (she was quite talented in that regard, Hermione could easily tell you), it was just that this was the most zealous she'd ever could have imagined Bellatrix reacting to anyone showing interest in the woman she was in love with. Bellatrix's mouth came down, lips capturing the brunette's clitoris between them and sucking at it, tongue darting forwards and flicking against it every so often. Immediately, Hermione began to buck against the dark witch, straining against the chair.

As Hermione felt the arousal and ecstasy build up again, Bellatrix parted her mouth from the brunette's clit and her tongue slid around Hermione's vulvae, tip darting into the brunette's heat every three seconds or so. Hermione's eyes were squeezed shut, she was whimpering as her thighs kept bucking and clenching.

"Oh Andy," Bellatrix laughed against Hermione's groin, making a tremor run through the brunette, "Some of the things I heard she did to her ex-husband Ted Tonks when they were at Hoggie Hogwarts together. Let me tell you, I think she'd eat you out from morning to evening. A tasty little morsel." Bellatrix stopped, pulled her head away from Hermione completely and stood up, smirking down at her lover as the dismayed muggle-born opened up her eyes and stared in horror at the former Death Eater.

Hermione's body felt like it was infused completely with pleasure, the inside of her thighs were soaked, moisture leaked from where Bellatrix had stuck her tongue previously and the brunette felt like she was about to faint at any moment. Seeing her disappointed look, Bellatrix reached out and grabbed Hermione's arms, one wrist in each hand, lifting the muggle-born up to the younger's already fairly limp legs.

"Bella?" Hermione groaned out, confusion obvious. Bellatrix grinned, hauling the younger up the stairs to their bedroom. Struggling enough till Hermione was through the door of their room, Bellatrix just calmly tossed the younger to their bed, startling the brunette. Hermione slowly turned over despite her exhaustion, brown eyes locked with the older woman's icy blue ones.

"And me?" Bellatrix bayed out in a exuberantly amused tone, pouncing on Hermione, straddling the brunette, "I'd just fuck your brains out."

She wrapped her arms around Hermione, clasping them to the brunette's side, grinding her clothed womanhood against Hermione's bare one with abandon. She slid between the brunette's inner thighs and thrust hard against Hermione's naked mound. She rested her head against Hermione's shoulder, listening as the muggle-born panted harder with each thrust. Bellatrix slid her arms down, nails gently scratching along the brunette's body till they reached the younger's buttocks. Growling in triumph, Bellatrix grabbed one of Hermione's cheeks in each hand, pushing up, making the muggle-born grind harder against Bellatrix's own now soaked heat. Hermione's arms flew out, wrapping around the former Death Eater's back involuntarily as Bellatrix savagely thrust her groin into Hermione's and pushed the younger more forcefully up against herself.

Hermione groaned, head thrashing against the pillows. Bellatrix took that time to hiss in her lover's ear, "Don't make any mistake, Hermione, you may share your body with my sisters but you're mine. Every heartbeat, every breath, every movement is _mine!"_ Bellatrix somehow thrust herself even harder against Hermione's cunt and the brunette almost shrieked in pleasure. "It might make Andy and Cissy happy," Bellatrix giggled, "But I just want to see them eat you out. I'm gaining everything by doing this. I get a little show before I can fuck you three ways to Sunday."

Hermione couldn't suppress her moaning. Go figure Bella would use crude muggle language to an art form extent. Finally, what was building up inside her, the euphoria, the tidal wave of ecstasy couldn't be contained anymore. She was going to explode if she didn't get a release. Still, Bellatrix kept on sliding against her, stroking her clitoris against Hermione's, and fingers starting to slip into her rear, fingering the hole there, increasing Hermione's passion, driving her fast. Her hips lurched forward and she whimpered, eyes rolling into her head, groin clenching. She felt the tidal wave crash into her without safety, sweeping her into its powerful clutch, ravaging her with overwhelming desire. As her body became locked up, Bellatrix increased her thrusting and fingering and Hermione mewled in delight, finally being allowed to orgasm.

Her back curved and she tensed, the pleasure crippling her and her hands fisted the sheets as her mouth fell open and the climax took her, followed by the ravishing orgasm. The brunette let out the last few cries and moans as she hips bucked out of control. The pleasure began to subside and her rapid movements slowed. Bellatrix's thrusts slowed as she gasped into Hermione's neck, the brunette's groin now slick not just with her own pleasure but the former Death Eater's too.

Both now gratified witches slumped against each other, nuzzling one another. "Are you alright, love?" Bellatrix asked tenderly, kissing Hermione's earlobe. The brunette smiled, weakly turning her head and snuggled into the raven haired woman's throat. "I'm wonderful, Bella," She sighed happily, "Are you okay?"

"Delighted." The dark witch purred against her lover, "What do you think? Have I convinced you, my precious love?" Hermione giggled, not able to do anything else at the moment, "Well, that's the most excited I've ever seen anyone over the idea of their lover having sex with other people." Hermione's expression then became serious, "Bella…Narcissa," Hermione hesitated, knowing what she was about to say risked the relationship between the sisters possibly this time forever, but parted from Bellatrix to look at the dark witch's face in complete concentration as she continued, "she's not as loving and kind towards you as she'd have you believe. She acts all cordial when you're around, but she thinks you're-"

"I'm what?" Bellatrix quipped, raising her left arm and propping it against the bed by her elbow, head resting against her left fist as she snickered, "She thinks I'm dark? She thinks that I'm evil? She thinks that I'm undeserving of you? Well, yes she does think that, and she's right."

Hermione's eyes were open wide now. "What?" She demanded, sitting up straight, untangling her limbs from the oldest Black sister's, staring down at the older in utter shock.

Bellatrix shrugged, chuckling. "Are you surprised I know that too? Cissy loves me, but she knows what I am. She hates me to a certain extent." Bellatrix's tone sobered as she spoke, "She's polite, true, but I can see it in her eyes when she looks at me every now and then and especially when she sees us together. She is jealous, love. She believes that I don't deserve you. She thinks that though she's no innocent, compared to me, she's a saint. She thinks she's more worthy of you than I am. No matter how true that might be though, you're mine, not hers."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Bellatrix's continual affirmations of Narcissa's opinions of herself. "She's not right, Bella," Hermione protested, angry, "You're not a monster and you _are _worthy of me. I love you. It's my choice to be with you." Hermione pushed herself upwards, crossing her legs as she sat "Indian style" across from Bellatrix, ignoring the drying moisture all along her thighs, stomach and groin, "This is why I don't want to be involved with either Andromeda or Narcissa." Hermione reached out and stroked the back of her left hand against Bellatrix's face, the dark witch closing her eyes in contentment, "The only one that _can _have me is you. The only one that is worthy of me. Andromeda and Narcissa aren't allowed. They're the ones that aren't worthy. They aren't worthy of either of us."

Bellatrix opened her steely blue eyes, observing the younger witch with an odd look. A gaze that startled the bushy haired witch. Those cerulean eyes held shock, but more than anything else, reverence and adoration. "You are wrong of course, Hermione," Bellatrix breathed out, smiling, "But I love you more for saying that. I don't know how you ever could love someone as broken as me, but whatever it is that somehow led you to be mine, know this, I'm going to keep you forever, so get used to it. So don't ever think I'll feel threatened by someone as petty as Cissy." Bellatrix ended her sentence with a dark smile and the amazed Hermione let out a laugh. Well, that someone was something she guessed she should have seen coming from her lover. Bellatrix's confidence and seductive nature never wavered.

"Yes." Hermione admitted, "I am yours, only. If you really feel comfortable with this. It's just I don't trust Narcissa."

Bellatrix moved so that she flung her back down on the bed, face upwards towards the ceiling, giggling like a child, "You don't have to trust Cissy. Or Andy for that matter. In fact you don't have to do anything at all. I'm just suggesting it." Hermione lifted an eyebrow. She gestured towards herself and at the bedroom and the disarrayed state they were both in, "Suggesting it strongly I should think." She mocked, grinning.

Bellatrix cackled, "Suggesting it strongly. Yes. It's your choice of course. Just know, I don't feel threatened by either of my little sisters. You shouldn't be either. You're mine, I'm yours. Those two can't come between us." She cocked her head towards Hermione, giving a chilling grin, "And I would love to see them try."

Hermione shivered a little at her lover's grin and her lover's tone. Perhaps she was wrong. One of the few times, Hermione would admit to being wrong. Perhaps Narcissa's comparison of Bellatrix to Caliban was a little closer than she thought.

"I'll consider it." She submitted, not thinking of anything else to say in a loss.

Bellatrix's wicked grin spread.


End file.
